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Toromin Doanshar
Email: Description Eye Color: Dim Blue Hair Color: Dark Blond Height: 5'1" when he first arrives in Tar Valon. 5'7" after his last growth spurt at 18. Weight: Light and skinny at first, strengthening eventually with maturity but never becoming remarkably muscular or heavy Age: 16 Place of Origin:'''Whitebridge, Andor Stats '''Rank: Trainee Weaopon Score: 1 Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet Primary Weapon: Secondary Weapon: Tertiary Weapon: History Toromin is an average boy from an average family, far from poor but certainly not rich. His father makes various items to sell to the never-ending supply of merchants who travel through Whitebridge, from saddles to chests to tools and implements to repair work on wagons and carts. His mother works with cloth and bags and baskets. If the customer needs good work done fast and for a good price, goodman Doanshar's the one he goes to. Toromin grew up having fun with his friends and helping his parents with their work, mainly in the way of fetching supplies from materials merchants around town that his parents were friends with and could get good prices from. He often spent time with his father watching him shape a saddle or hammer together a strong wooden chest, though for the sake of quality craftsmanship, his father rarely let him actually help with a job beyond simple tasks. Toro (as a friend sometimes called him) loved to read, or more accurately loved to learn, always a curious and observant boy. He noticed everything, and never missed a thing, unless he was distracted by something else. He hasn't had a need or opportunity to use it as such yet, but he has a sharp and analytical mind, as well as a deep and creative spirit. He likes trying to figure out how things work, and enjoys lying under a big tree with his friends at sunset and watching birds fly in formation high in the sky. His family has always been humble yet respectful of each other and of other people. A couple of his friends think his family's slightly stuffy, but they do respect goodman Doanshar and his wife. He also has a little sister, eight years his junior, who goes by Maddie (short for Madicken, which was itself a nickname for Toromin's mother's grandmother, Maragena). Maddie was born in Whitebridge after the family's move from Baerlon when Toromin was a toddler. She mostly spends time with her mother, since Toromin's friends make her feel "like a little kid". Toromin feels very protective of his little sister, though, and loves her very much. He doesn't sound like the sort of person one would expect to find wanting to be a Warder, and for most of his life, he would have agreed with you. He's always managed to avoid fighting, since trouble doesn't tend to find him to be a very interesting target. However, sometimes fate has a way of drawing people into currents of which they would otherwise never have become aware. It was a little over a year ago, when Toromin was still fourteen... a couple of hours before sundown on a regular old day. He was wheeling an old grey wooden cart down a side street on a trip to get studs and leathers for his father's work, when he was jolted by the loudest boom and clatter he had ever heard. Everyone along the street ducked against the nearest wall and looked around to see what could have caused such a horrendous noise, when more sounds of devastation arose, joined by the sound of steel meeting steel in battle. Toro tucked the cart into a nearby alley, propping it against a red wooden building and carefully running across the dry dirt ground towards the noise. Glancing behind to see if anyone was following, he peeked around the corner of the building and stared in shock at the skirmish taking place. As quickly as he had arrived, the battle appeared to be almost over by the time he saw it. Several hard-looking men lay sprawled in sickening contortions in the road, and Toromin would have been unable to take his eyes off them if not for the flurry of mesmerizing movements coming from the man they had apparently attacked. The man had a sword, blurred in movements so smooth and deliberate that Toromin stood speechless and transfixed in awe. At first, as observant as he was, he didn't notice the woman standing on the wagon seat behind the swordsman. But then, she moved her hands in some sort of practiced and almost meditative way, and the attacker at the swordsman's flank tumbled back as if struck by a warhammer, at the same instant the swordsman slashed the final assailant across the chest. The man and woman stared around the area looking for any further signs of danger, and the man's eyes fixed upon Toromin's for a moment as his gaze passed over. No words were exchanged, but something happened in that look that caused a stirring in the young boy's soul. There was something important here... more important than anything he had yet seen or experienced... more important than a merchant's life... more important than a carefree life... more important than family... That last thought was caught by the tail as it passed through his mind, and he inwardly chuckled it away. Nothing was more important than family. In that moment, the swordsman's gaze had passed on and he had turned to speak to the woman he was with. Toromin started to hear murmurs and whispers from other nearby spectators, catching phrases like "Aes Sedai", "Power", and the most chilling of all... "darkfriends". He caught the attention of a merchant from the building he was crouching behind and tried to ask what had happened. His stare had returned to the bodies lying in the street as the frightened and angry looking merchant gave him a quick, irritated reply before returning to his own worries. "Someone tried to attack an Aes Sedai, it would seem. Oh, business won't be good here the next few days. Such trouble as I haven't seen in years. Why did they have to pick my street? Why can't they all stay in Tar Valon, or Caemlyn, even?" Toromin's mind reeled... Aes Sedai? He knew of them, of course, but as far as he knew, he had never seen one. If the stories were to be believed, they were fearsome people... and always women. Men who had powers like Aes Sedai were the scariest stories of all... the mere rumor of one could bring a town into gloom and despair for days on end. "But the man, then..." The merchant glanced over at him once more and flashed an even more irritated look, apparently having forgotten the boy was even there. "Her Warder, obviously. Those Aes Sedai have their Warders to do much of the killing for them. Look at those dead bodies... this is just horrible! What am I going to do to bring my business back?" Toromin shrunk back around the corner of the building, his heart beating hard and fast from the shock of the events he had witnessed. A Warder... the stories spoke of them, too, though he hadn't heard very many about them. Aes Sedai... they're real, then. And they're... here... in Whitebridge. He peeked around the corner once more to see what he could of the Aes Sedai and her Warder, and they were already making preparations to leave the vicinity. The Warder finished exchanging words with a town guard who had arrived too late, then joined the Aes Sedai on the wagon seat and rushed the horses down the road. Toromin tried to get a better look at the Warder, but for some reason he couldn't seem to focus his eyes on him. Aes Sedai... and Warders… like the stories... Toromin chided himself. They obviously weren't just stories at all. Toromin picked up the cart again and returned home to tell his parents everything that had happened. He spent the next several months learning about Aes Sedai and Warders, and came to the decision that the Aes Sedai were very important to the world, in keeping peace between nations, protecting the world from another Breaking, and defending everyone from the forces of the Dark One. What he had always thought to be mere stories to frighten children Toromin learned were really the truest and most dangerous things of all. Male channelers, Trollocs, Fades, and Darkfriends... there were battles going on, and the Aes Sedai were fighting, and dying, to protect the regular people of the land so they could continue living in freedom and security. The Aes Sedai needed to be protected as well, so they could continue their noble fight, Toromin had said to his mother and father several times when his little sister wasn't around. They weren't pleased with his newfound focus and enthusiasm for such dangerous ideals. "Toromin... When you turn sixteen," his father had said the latest time, "you can decide what you like. Until then, you're my son, and you'll be helping me here like you always have." Toromin's jaw had dropped and he stared at his father as the unexpected response soaked in. He had never fully considered leaving home, but now that the thought had been offered to him, he saw it as the most logical thing in the world. He wanted to help the Aes Sedai in their never-ending struggle against the Dark One, and the only real way he could do that was to become... a Warder. He didn't know the first thing about swords and fighting, but he had strength, speed, balance, and a sharp mind. He could learn how to defend himself and an Aes Sedai, and hopefully he wouldn't actually have to kill anybody. The day he left home for Tar Valon, traveling with a merchant caravan from whom his father had booked passage, was the hardest day of the young man's life. It took ten days to get to Caemlyn, and another twelve to Tar Valon. Every night, Toromin struggled to get the image of his sister's and mother's sobbing cries out of his mind's eye... the sadness and disappointment in his father's face. I'll make them proud of me... They'll be so proud they'll want to boast about me to their friends, he told himself. By the time he crossed the wide bridge leading into Tar Valon, he was frightened, alone, and seriously considering finding some way to get back home. However, he was also determined, idealistic, and fully enchanted by the idea of helping the Aes Sedai and changing the world. He hefted the pack on his back containing what possessions he had, chiefly clothing, and carefully walked the streets of the city, awestruck by the beauty and strength of the white walls and the richness of the architecture and inhabitants. The White Tower stood shimmering and radiant, visible from every street and alley of the city, and every few steps he had to stop and stare at its magnificence. By the time he arrived at the White Tower, he hadn't the slightest idea what to expect. Everything would be unexpected, but at the same time, the unexpected was expected, and he was determined to make his life what the Pattern had destined it to be. Category:WS 1 Category:Trainee Category:Biographies Category:Warder Bios